Page 89 of Viral Justice

“Max is sleeping too.” She glanced into the room. “How many donations?”

“Six.”

“Max wants a couple more for sure,” she told Hunt. “He’s figured out which flu virus it is and he’s pretty scared. He wants to try to create a vaccine.”

“Here?” Hunt’s skepticism wasn’t a surprise. “Now?”

She shrugged. “He said something about doing it the old-fashioned way.”

Hunt glanced into the room and Ali followed his gaze. Berez was coughing, a wet, rattling sound that had her gut tight with worry.

“He started coughing after we got here, and it’s only gotten worse since. He’s got a fever too. Max gave him some acetaminophen and a decongestant while you were outside, but it hasn’t made much of a difference.”

“Did Max take samples from him?”

“Yeah, a couple.”

Then there was nothing she could do but watch over him and his family, and wait.

She looked at Hunt and noted darkened almost bruised looking eyes. “How are you feeling? Any symptoms?”

“I have a headache, which is unusual for me. Max took a nasal sample from me too. Tom says he’s fine. You?”

“I’m tired and sore, but that’s to be expected after a couple of bouts of close-quarters combat.”

“How many times have you gotten in a fight this trip?”

“Twice. A bunch of assholes tried to carry Fatima and me off.”

“Did they appear well trained?”

She thought about it. “They seemed to know one end of a rifle from another, but were ineffectual against me and my knives.”

“Their lack of training is an advantage for us.”

“That and the fact that they don’t expect someone my size to know how to fight back.”

Hunt grinned, but the smile didn’t last long. “When was the last time you heard from Nolan?”

“About forty-five minutes ago. He was in the tents, I think, negotiating with some elders. He was supposed to send the other team medic.”

“No one has shown up.” Hunt frowned. “He’s fifteen minutes overdue for a check-in.”

“You want me to track him down?”

“No, not yet. If things have gone bad, we’re going to need your weapon and your aim.”

Footsteps approached from the direction of the entrance of the building. A moment later, one of Nolan’s team appeared in the gloom.

Mike Holland was the team’s other medic and looked like an extra out of one of those Viking shows. He was tall and broad-shouldered with a regulation haircut, but his blond beard and mustache were a little overgrown.

“Hey,” he said to her and Hunt. “Sorry I’m late, I had a tail I had to get rid of.”

“You were followed?”

“Not very well. It didn’t take me two minutes to figure out the two fellows behind me were out for more than a casual stroll.”

“What’s going on?” Hunt asked.

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